The Marco Players knocked on the door of apartment 504 Wednesday night. Young Ross dropped in on aging widower Mr. Green. Lessons were learned. Lives were changed. Worlds were rocked. Long-held notions were shattered. Boys became men. That's what happens when you're "Visiting Mr. Green."

Jeff Baron wrote his play in 1996. Eight scenes (and a brief coda) dissect the burgeoning relationship between American Express executive Ross and a crotchety Jewish fellow holed up in his apartment waiting to die. What starts as a youth vs. age culture clash comedy morphs into a sensitive drama about old hurts and the pain that families can cause. Florida Repertory Theatre ended their season with a production starring David S. Howard in May 2008.

Two actors, Joseph Lang as Ross and Michael Hennessey as Mr. Green, deliver on every ounce of the script's promise. Director Beverly Dahlstrom balances the comedy of the first act against the tense emotion - and eventual catharsis - of the second to create a compelling evening.

Lang, in just his third-ever show, makes for a deliciously layered Ross. The character was sentenced to community service after nearly mowing down Mr. Green with his car. Lang allows the audience to see his frustrations with the pensioner and how he identifies Mr. Green with his own father.

What Lang (and director Dahlstrom) do so well is to root Ross's journey toward self-acceptance into every part of the character. Not just the dialogue, but mannerisms and even how Ross stands, puts his hands in his pockets and stops staring at the floor.

Hennessey gives every one-liner a delicate twist, sending it zipping across the stage for a light laugh. He broadcasts the pain of losing his dear Yedda so ferociously, so openly that the air in theater almost beats palpably during his breakdown.

The actor growls out each word of the script, letting audiences feel the weight of Mr. Green's years, grief and loneliness. I like that Dahlstrom gets Hennessey to ease into the play, letting viewers discover more of the character as he slowly reveals himself to Ross.

Each scene starts with Ross flying through the door into Mr. Green's tiny, dingy apartment and builds, slowly, like a wave crashing onto the shore. Each scene crescendos with a revelation and another door closing.

Revealing too much about the plot destroys the sense of discovery audiences get from the play - and robs you of the "whoooo" moments that come when actors toss out certain lines of dialogue. Suffice to say that Ross and Mr. Green are both hiding things - from themselves and from others - and neither are happy. The play preaches forgiveness - and makes a case for friendship as a crutch to help us through life's dark patches.

Dahlstrom plays the silences and pauses in Baron's script well - but she's aided by a marvelous sense of timing from her two actors. Perhaps the best scene comes near the end of the play, when Ross and Mr. Green finally realize that they have to let go of the things keeping them in the past. Lang and Hennessey hold, hold, hold and finally embrace in a moment that brims with emotion and fulfills the promise of everything the characters have been through.

The production's one sticking point comes during the intermezzos. The play establishes that Ross visits every Thursday - requiring Lang change outfits multiple times. While there's no way to cut the breaks entirely, layering costumes might have been a better plan than trying complete changes and leaving the audience in darkness for more than a minute at a time. Although there's music - and an obvious explanation - the blackouts definitely don't help the show.

Jim Swanker (design) and Jan Weiss (decoration) craft a compact set that feels dingy, although it might need a bit more detritus to feel appropriately neglected. A gorgeous carved cabinet was a particularly nice find.